


Two and Three

by breeisonfire



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, aka i love them, i had a think and i wrote it, it's 2am how are you, the dorky bros have a talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 18:57:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14599584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeisonfire/pseuds/breeisonfire
Summary: Virgil finds Alan for a talk after 'Life Signs.'





	Two and Three

**Author's Note:**

> EMOTIONS

Alan was a strange kid.

This was a well-known fact throughout the entirety of International Rescue. It’s always been true, since the day Alan was born. Maybe it was because he was the youngest of five, or maybe it’s just his personality, but he’s always been weird.

Virgil finds him lying on his back on the floor of Three’s hangar, staring up at his ‘bird. His legs are propped up against a thruster, and his arms are flung out to the sides. Virgil can’t tell if he’s deep in thought or if he’s managed to fall asleep with his eyes open again. He doesn’t want to startle Alan, so he makes sure to walk louder than normal. The kid tilts his head to peek at him, so that proves he’s awake.

“Hey, Virgil.”

“Hey, Al,” Virgil says, dropping down to sit on the ground next to him. Alan goes back to staring up at Three. Virgil glances at him and sighs.

Alan, like Scott, has a tendency to get stuck in his own head after long and/or stressful missions. Virgil had been anticipating this since the get-go, considering their topic of choice on the way to Mars.

Virgil hadn’t meant to bring up their dad, and he definitely hadn’t meant to remind Alan of the things he’d missed out on. He’d genuinely forgotten that Alan hadn’t done the same contingency training they’d done. It was easy to forget just how young Alan actually was until it was staring you in the face, usually at the worst moments. Virgil hated forgetting that. Alan was still a kid. A smart, competent, skilled kid, but a kid nonetheless.

He’d done great on Mars. Brains had said the same about him on Mercury. He’s definitely come a long way as a pilot and an astronaut, not to mention an operative of International Rescue. Virgil’s not sure he’d have been able to handle it at Alan’s age, but then, Alan’s been raised around this. It’s not really a fair comparison.

Virgil looks at Alan again and then up at Three. Then he lies down next to Alan and props his legs up, too. _If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em._

“So,” he starts, because if he lets Alan start the conversation he won’t have any control of it. “What’s on your mind?”

The thing about his brothers is that there isn’t just one way to get all of them to talk. It took years before Virgil figured it out, but now he’s got it down to a science. He knows what buttons to push on Gordon to get to the real problem, the right questions for John, the right time to corner Scott. He knows Alan appreciates being treated like an equal. He knows that he can joke around with Alan, but not the same way he does with Gordon. Just like he knows the questions he asks John would just get dismissed by Scott, and that cornering Gordon like he does Scott would result in yelling.

It’s a delicate balancing act. It’s also a pain in the ass. Virgil just figures he’s lucky he loves his brothers.

Alan’s quiet for a moment, long enough that Virgil’s considering asking again before he says, “D’you think Dad planned for this?”

“For what?” Virgil asks, even though he’s pretty sure he knows what Alan means.

“You know,” Alan says. “ _This_. Him dying. _T_ _hat_.”

Now it’s Virgil’s turn to be quiet. Because honestly, he’s not sure. Their dad was known for being thorough. It’s the reason Virgil, despite not piloting Thunderbird Three often, knows his way around it. It’s the reason Kayo knows how to pilot Thunderbird Four. It’s the reason Alan knows how to pilot Three at all. It’s the reason they have a hangar at the ranch, and why the Wide Area Safety Protocol is a thing. Logically, he knows their dad probably did plan for it.

He’s just not sure his dad knew it’d be so early.

If he had, he probably would have fast-tracked Alan’s training, or brought in another astronaut. Scott would have had more than a passing knowledge of Tracy Industries and everything that came with inheriting that. They would have had a way to actually find the body, or at least confirm what had happened. He would have had backup, or called for them, or _something_.

“Yeah,” Virgil finally says. “I think he was planning for it.”

He can feel Alan shift to look at him. “Planning?”

Virgil grimaces. “I don’t think he was ready.”

“Oh,” Alan says. Then, quieter, “None of us were.”

There’s not really much Virgil can say to that. It’s true, and it will always be true, and nothing Virgil could say would ever change that. They weren’t ready and they still aren’t. Virgil doesn’t think there’s any way to ever _be_ ready for something like this. It terrifies him to think it could happen again, to any of them.

He’d been telling the truth when he’d said he didn’t think about it on the job. He didn’t have time to start thinking like that. He had to be in the moment, focusing on the job at hand. Thinking about hypotheticals like that only made things more difficult.

But like he’d told Alan, it scared him when he was at home. When the adrenaline started to wear off, or the bruises and bumps started to hurt. When he was sitting in the lounge, waiting for his brothers to check in while on their own rescues. When he let himself get too caught up in the ‘what-ifs.’

They’d chosen this life. They knew the risks. Virgil firmly believed in what they were doing. He believed that everyone deserved to know someone was listening when they needed help. Everyone deserved to have hope, no matter who they were.

He reminded himself of that every time one of those situations popped up. Every time Alan got too damn close to the sun. Every time Gordon or Kayo went radio silent. Every time Scott or John challenged gravity at its own game. When Brains seemed to forget how serious the risks were. When Lady Penelope and Parker went undercover. When _he_ got into trouble.

He was terrified of the day one of them wouldn’t come back. When reminding himself of this wouldn’t be enough. It was always a possibility

“Virgil?”

He’s pulled abruptly out of his thoughts by Alan’s voice and turns his head to look at him. “Yeah, Allie?”

“Think we should come up with our own contingency plans?” Alan’s looking up at Three again. “I mean, things are different now. Dad didn’t know about Thunderbird Shadow, or the Chaos Crew, or EOS.”

Virgil tilts his head. “You know what, you’re right. Dad’s scenarios are a little outdated.”

He manages to avoid flinching at that. If Alan notices, he doesn’t show it, just shrugs.

“From what you said, so was his sense of style.”

That startles a laugh out of Virgil. “Oh, my _God_ , Alan.”

Alan’s grinning now. “What? You can’t tell me I’m wrong. A pink flamingo shirt? _Really_?”

The laughter is a little bit helpless now, but it feels good. “It really was horrible.”

“Got any pictures?” Alan asks.

“I’ll do you one better,” Virgil says, rolling so he can get to his feet. “I know where the shirt is.”

Alan sits up so fast he nearly smacks his head on his own ‘bird. “No way.”

Virgil holds a hand out to help Alan up. “Way. Come on, I’ll show you - Grandma always threatened to burn it when he left, so he always hid it. I found it a while ago.”

“And you didn’t tell anybody?” Alan says, though he looks delighted.

“I’m telling you now!” Virgil points out. “Don’t tell Grandma. I’ve had enough fire for a while, thank you.”

“You can say that again,” Alan agrees. He pauses just long enough to pat Three twice before hurrying to catch up with Virgil. “Let’s go!”

Virgil grins as he follows Alan up the stairs and glances back at Three in all her shiny red glory, ready to be launched at a moment’s notice, her pilot now bouncing ahead of him. He offers her a small nod, an acknowledgement of what she now stands for.

_We miss you, Dad. But we’re still going. Hope you’re proud of us._


End file.
